


don't put that thing up your nose

by sleeplessmiles



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Accidentally High, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-16 10:57:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4622742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleeplessmiles/pseuds/sleeplessmiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma is exposed to an 0-8-4 and kind of sort of gets accidentally high.</p>
            </blockquote>





	don't put that thing up your nose

**Author's Note:**

> Just a repost of a prompt I filled on tumblr a while back - a prompt that was very much NOT 'don't put that thing up your nose,' which was apparently difficult for my tired brain to comprehend when I read it in a semi-conscious state. This is what resulted. 
> 
> Set somewhere in the middle of season 2. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!!

 

May strides purposefully into the lab some time around mid-morning, hoping desperately that Jemma’s found something useful to give her. The whole team had been involved in the retrieval of an 0-8-4 earlier that day, and while most of the team are currently out investigating the suspicious circumstances, May has been left behind to run back-end.

Thus far, it’s been mind-numbingly boring.

She’s greeted instantly by Jemma’s cheery voice, filtering across from an unseen section of the lab. ‘Ah! Agent May! There’s something you simply  _have_ to come and see.’

May wanders through the lab to Jemma’s workstation, unconcerned by the almost wild quality to the young scientist’s voice. This is not an unusual exclamation; she calls May to come and look at something under a microscope almost every time May visits.

On occasion, it’s even something kind of interesting.

‘This the 0-8-4? May asks, coming to a stop next to the girl. Jemma snorts, surprisingly inelegant, before chuckling darkly.

May blinks.

_What?_

Jemma must notice the look on May’s face, because she sobers up a little. ‘Oh. Yes, sure.’

Suspicious, May leans over to look through the microscope’s eyepiece, reaching over to adjust the focus. She stares for a couple of long moments, confused, before pulling back.

There’s no slide on the microscope.

‘Wait for it…’ Jemma says, voice excited.

Then, she flicks the microscope’s light off. She looks up at May expectantly.

May just stares back at her. Jemma pouts at the lack of reaction.

‘Did you not see? Watch.’

She flicks the light back on.

Then off again.

Then on again.

Just, keeps toggling it on and off, her face enraptured.

May frowns at the girl, studying her carefully. ‘Are you feeling okay?’

‘I feel great!’ she gushes. ‘Isn’t this fantastic?’

May’s frown deepens at that – Jemma’s apparently being completely serious.

‘Look at me for a moment,’ May instructs. She does; her pupils are dilated, blown incredibly wide.

Oh, no.

She’s high.

‘Did you take something?’ May asks quickly, trying not to become too alarmed. It doesn’t really work, but at least she’s trying.

‘Hmm? Oh, not exactly. As it turns out, I was infected by the 0-8-4 this morning.’ She explains it casually, as though she’s simply informing May of what she’d had for breakfast.

May’s horrified.

‘No, it’s  _fine!_ ’ Jemma insists breezily, waving a hand and absurdly smiling at the look May’s giving her. ‘It’s totally under control. No contagions, and it should be out of my system within the next few hours.’

‘You’re sure.’

‘Everything’s fine, Agent May. Just  _fine_.’

May’s still unconvinced. Jemma leans in closer.

‘Or, as the kids might say, it’s  _coolbeans_.’ She starts laughing uncontrollably at herself.

Jesus Christ.

‘Have you run tests?’

Jemma scoffs. ‘ _Please_. Of course I have.’

May trails behind her as she walks over to a different microscope, one with a few used slides and packages uncharacteristically littered around it (hold on – did she draw her own blood?). Grabbing for a piece of paper, Jemma presents it to May with a dramatic flourish, giggling at her own antics.

Choosing to ignore the worrying behaviour in lieu of quickly scanning the results, May finds that the girl seems to be telling the truth. It does appear to be pretty harmless.

That’s a relief.

She looks up again, realising that Jemma’s been suspiciously quiet for a little while. The young biochemist seems to be keeping herself entertained, finding some other piece of innocuous-looking lab equipment suddenly fascinating. She’s frowning intently at it, holding it at eye level.

Then she moves it towards her face, and –

May’s eyes widen.

‘No.’

She lunges forward, snatching the equipment out of Jemma’s hands before she can poke an eye out (or… put it up her nose? What was her plan here?). Jemma’s looking at her as though May’s just insulted her very honour, and yeah, perhaps a professional lab isn’t the best place for the girl right now.

(Plus, some of the techs are beginning to stare. May knows how self-conscious Jemma is around the technicians these days, how uncomfortable she gets with the whispers that follow her around this new lab.)

Looks like she’ll be babysitting for a while.

‘Follow me,’ she instructs, knowing Jemma will do so without question. She doesn’t count on the young scientist looking instantly heartbroken, though.

‘Wait. We’re leaving?’

She resists the urge to roll her eyes. ‘Yes.’

‘Oh, but  _May_ ,’ Jemma says, scandalised. ‘ _Science_.’

May waits patiently for Jemma to continue that sentence, but she never does. She just keeps looking at May seriously, as though anything she’d just said made even a shred of sense.

‘We’ll find some other science,’ May promises.

That gets her to change her tune.

‘Like an adventure?’ she asks excitedly, her entire face animated. ‘A  _quest?’_

May sighs, steering her out of the lab. ‘Yes.’

They’re in the hallway then, which May probably hadn’t thought through as much as she should have, because Jemma races ahead to poke her head in through every doorway, looking around excitedly before being gently guided back out again. May isn’t really sure what she’s searching for ( _science_ , she thinks wryly), but she seems happy enough, anyway.

(If this is what little kids are like, May thinks she might understand now why some parents keep them on leashes. Jemma’s more like a puppydog right now anyway, bounding up to every doorway with seemingly endless energy.)

Something seems to occur to her suddenly, though, because she turns back to May.

‘Where are we going?’ Jemma asks breathlessly.

_Good question._

‘We’re going to watch some TV,’ she decides. The screen should keep Jemma mesmerised long enough for the 0-8-4’s effects to wear off.

Hopefully.

‘We’re going to watch telly together?’ Jemma questions brightly. May grits her teeth.

‘Yes.’

‘Maybe we could play video games!’ she suggests with a broad grin.

‘Or, we could just watch TV.’

‘Oh!’ Jemma exclaims, probably a couple hundred decibels louder than she thinks she did. She stops in her tracks, grabbing onto both of May’s biceps and staring at her seriously.

‘You should challenge Mack!’ she whispers conspiratorially, eyes alight.

May stares. ‘To a fight?’ she asks.

‘ _No_ , silly. To a video game playoff.’

Great. Even better. May pries Jemma's fingers off and redirects her forwards, pushing her into motion once more.

‘He plays those bloody shooting games all the time,’ Jemma continues, talking almost to herself. ‘You’re much more skilled than he is. I bet you’d win. I bet you’d beat him, so much.’

She starts giggling at that apparently humorous concept, her laughter slowly escalating until she’s cackling wildly.

Dear God.

‘Mack’s not here right now,’ May offers, hoping to shut down that particular train of thought. Jemma’s laughter trails off in response, and she damn near pouts.

They’re nearly at their destination now, having (blessedly) avoided coming across anyone they know in the hallways. Suddenly Jemma decides to race ahead, darting through the doorway; May grabs for her but just misses.

Shit.

But there’s an excited gasp from inside, and then:

‘Lancelot!’ Jemma cries. May enters the room just in time to see the petite scientist throwing her arms around the mercenary, who staggers backwards with her momentum.

‘What’s gotten into you?’ he laughs.

‘Jemma, go sit over by the television,’ May instructs.

Her eyes light up again. ‘Oh,  _really?_  Are we going to – ’

‘ – yes,’ May replies. Jemma bounces on her toes, making an excited squeaking noise and clapping her hands, before skipping eagerly over to the couch. She throws herself down onto it, a mess of ungainly limbs, and starts giggling again.

May turns back to Hunter, who’s watching Jemma and looking like all of his birthdays and Christmases have come at once.

‘I’ll give you twenty dollars if you forget you ever saw this and don’t hold it over her head.’

He clutches at his chest dramatically, adopting a deeply hurt expression. ‘Agent May, you wound me! You think I can just be bribed, like a common – ’

‘ – fifty.’

‘Deal.’ He looks across at Jemma then, a fond, bemused smile on his face. ‘She gonna be alright?’

May glances over. Jemma’s found the remote, and seems to be using it in some sort of sword fight against invisible assailants. She’s letting out battle cries and making little sound effects.

On second thought, it might be a  _Star Wars_  thing.

‘It’ll wear off eventually,’ she tells him.

Hunter nods. ‘I’ll keep people out of here for a while then.’

She regards him sharply, surprised. He only shrugs, face unexpectedly soft.

‘Fifty big ones buys you a lot,’ is what he offers by way of explanation.

May watches him leave, mouth twisting in thought. She might not like him in the slightest, but she can’t deny he’s always good to Jemma.

Speaking of…

‘May!’ Jemma calls out, remote still firmly grasped in one hand. ‘May May May May May! May May – ’

‘ – I’m coming,’ she sighs, walking over and plucking the remote out of the girl’s hand.

‘Are we going to watch something?’

‘Sure.’ She guides Jemma over to the couch, where the girl sits and bounces excitedly. Seating herself carefully at the other end of the couch, May quickly flicks through a few channels, eventually settling on a nature documentary as the safest option.

It takes about 50 seconds for Jemma to shuffle over and cuddle up against May’s side.

Fantastic.

Rolling her eyes heavenward at this new development, May glowers up at a god she doesn’t entirely believe in. If he _does_  exist, she thinks, he must be having an absolute blast at May’s expense lately.

‘‘S is nice,’ Jemma breathes after a while, snuggling against May’s shoulder even more. ‘No one ever watches telly with me, really.’

May’s heart clenches painfully at that as she realises, not for the first time, how lonely this girl must have been over the past six months.

Before she can reply properly, though, she looks down to find Jemma fast asleep. She just watches her for a little while longer, eventually shifting her attention back to the television. 

This is her life now, apparently.

 

-

-

 

It’s probably an hour or so of Jemma snoozing against May’s shoulder, snoring softly (and oh, God,  _drooling_ ), before Fitz jogs into the room, a little breathless. He’s got the results of Jemma’s bloodtest clutched in his hand, and a deeply concerned expression on his face.

‘She’s fine,’ May promises, carefully manoeuvring the sleeping girl off her shoulder and guiding her head to rest against the arm of the couch. Fitz walks over and seems to hesitate, unsure whether to approach her or not, and the awed manner in which he regards Jemma tells May it’s time to take her leave.

But she’s halfway to the door when she pauses.

She really doesn’t want to get involved in this. Really,  _really_ doesn’t.

And yet, she finds herself turning back around anyway.

‘Fitz.’

He looks up, tearing his eyes away from the peacefully sleeping woman with great reluctance.

‘Watch TV with her some time.’

Fitz frowns, confused, but nods anyway. Satisfied, May goes to leave again – not a moment too soon, apparently, because she hears the telltale sounds of Jemma stirring.

‘Did I win the quest?’ May hears her ask, voice soft and sleepy.

‘You sure did,’ Fitz tells her seriously. ‘You beat them  _all_.’

May only smiles.

 

 


End file.
